


Healing takes time (but time itself will not heal)

by undertalefa



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: :(, Anxiety Attacks, Eating Disorders, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sad Steven Universe, Suicidal Thoughts, Therapy, but don’t worry cause we have some, i swear the actual fic is better, i’m so sorry my title and summary are trash, not like anything specific tho it's more so disordered eating, steven needs tlc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:14:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23556640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undertalefa/pseuds/undertalefa
Summary: The aftermath of turning into a monster is not something easily disregarded.Or: The space between “I am my monster” and “The future.” There’s a lot that happens in the months before Steven leaves.
Relationships: Amethyst & Garnet & Pearl & Steven Universe, Connie Maheswaran & Steven Universe, Connie Maheswaran/Steven Universe, Sadie Miller/Shep
Comments: 28
Kudos: 146





	1. Painkillers

**Author's Note:**

> hi! if you’re new to my work, thank you for checking me out! hope you enjoy my work :)
> 
> if you’re from one of my other fics, man am i sorry. BUT! i WILL be finishing “permanent smile” you can quote me on that! (not that there’s many of you still into that fic, but i need to see it through!) 
> 
> anyway, again, hope you enjoy! kudos and comments are greatly appreciated :)

When he first wakes up, it’s dark. Which, admittedly, is an obvious thing to notice. Hey, cut him some slack, he just-

What  _ did _ he just do?

He was a monster, a  _ monster _ , why is he-

No. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Everything’s fine.

Except… it’s not, is it? Nothing is fine. Nothing about this is fine, or okay, or however you want to put it. 

Whatever. 

His hands clench into soft sheets, and Steven buries his head into his covers, inhaling the scent of lavender and clean laundry. 

The next thing he realizes is that he’s in his room. Again, obvious. But at least he’s somewhere familiar. It’s quiet, bar the ocean waves gently crashing and spilling their salty tides along the beach. He focuses on that for a moment. The monotonous sound of his town, of his home. The town that he almost destroyed. The home that he  _ did  _ destroy.

Okay. He comes to the conclusion that even the most impressive of gymnastic stunts can’t help him avoid thinking of what just happened.

So, let’s just get to the point. He turned into a giant monster. That part is clear. Everything else is extremely clouded and foggy, a thick veil held over his mind and memory. That, however, doesn’t spare Steven from knowing he messed up.

He’s sore. Like, extremely so. The comforter feels amazing against his body, it’s soft, airy cushions providing just enough pressure that he’s probably the most comfortable he could possibly be at this point. He’s still in pain, but at least he has these fresh sheets that encase the burning flames of his body in a metaphorical block of ice.

_ Maybe _ he should stop waxing poetry about his goddamned comforter. And maybe, just maybe, he should- you know- figure out what the hell is going on?

(He doesn’t want to think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it.)

With a grunt escaping his lips, Steven manages to force himself up into a sitting position. Surprise surprise, there’s no one else in the room. Another brilliant observation by Steven Universe. He almost laughs out loud, except it isn’t really funny. He’s not in the mood for jokes. 

He has a splitting headache. He should maybe do something about that. But he’s so sore and so tired (how long has it been since the incident, anyway?) and getting up for some aspirin really doesn’t sound like the most appealing thing right now. His head disagrees though, pounding even more, so much so he feels the beating of his heart and the pumping of his blood throbbing in his brain. And as much as he wants to sleep it off (and sleep until this whole problem is solved without him), it’s impossible to ignore. 

Unfortunately, that means parting with his bed. Great. He heaves and presses his back against the wall, sitting up enough that he can easily swing his legs off the mattress. Goodbye, dear comforter. 

Steven’s feet plant themselves on the floor, and with a final push he manages to stand himself up. Which, hooh boy, is a bad idea. His vision blacks out for a second, and he feels lightheaded. He almost falls over and face plants into the floor, but manages to save himself by pressing his hand against the wall.

Okay, deep breaths. It’s just standing and walking downstairs. He should be able to do that, right? Except he hasn’t been successful with much, recently. 

Steven takes a moment to steady himself, the cool, rough texture of the wall against his palm keeping him grounded. His legs wobble and buckle slightly in stiffness and pain, but he eventually gets one foot in front of the other. Congratulations! He can handle the basic human task of walking! 

He’s fine, until about thirty seconds later, when the stairs come into view. Stairs, his mortal enemy. God, he wishes he could just fall all the way down and get up at the bottom. He considers doing it (it  _ is _ a pretty efficient method), but comes to the conclusion that it probably wouldn’t be the best idea. Besides, the gems might hear and come to check on the loud thudding sound of his body rolling down. Where are they, anyway? It’s not that he wants to avoid them, but… 

Even thinking about it, his face heats up. Although that could partially be contributed by his headache. Oh yeah, his headache. You know, the thing he got up to fix? (Maybe, if he tries hard enough, fixing himself physically will be all he needs to do)

So… stairs. Painfully slowly, and just plain painfully, Steven makes his way down the stairs. There’s a breeze coming from the gaping hole in the roof and wall. Huh. He caused that, didn’t he? 

Even though his senses are all thrown off, when he reaches the bottom floor he’s able to hear a whisper of a conversation. Said conversation seems to be taking place out on the deck a little bit away from what used to be the front door, judging by the familiar shadows he glimpses through the broken wall. It looks like his dad is there, too. Probably talking about him. Actually, no. Most  _ definitely _ talking about him.

As much as he wants to grab a glass of water and some aspirin and just book it back upstairs into his bed, he knows confrontation is inevitable. He didn’t even speak- couldn’t, through his crying- to anyone after his little fiasco. He remembers the aftermath more clearly than the actual event itself (along with its cause), but it’s not like much happened. Mostly crying. Exhausting crying that shook his frame and had him breaking down more than he ever has before in front of everyone. Crying that makes your head hurt and makes your eyes puffy and red and consists of you releasing every emotion you hold through your tears, leaving you with nothing but exhaustion and a need to sleep. Which, clearly, he did.

Who knows what time it is now. He probably should’ve checked when he was upstairs (since there’s literally an alarm clock next to his bed), but it just slipped his mind.

He’ll have to face everyone soon. He knows this. But he also knows that he has a still very prevalent headache so, damn it, he’s getting his aspirin! He goes into the bathroom and avoids thinking about the shards of an almost-friend and spilled colored bottles and diamond eyes. He just. Needs aspirin. Yeah.

He reaches into the cabinet, and of course: the bottle is empty. His luck. Well, guess talking with everyone can’t be held off for much longer. Especially since his headache is becoming harder and harder to ignore. At the very least, his dad probably has some painkillers in his van. 

He sighs heavily, probably more dramatic than necessary. Just go outside, act normal (what even  _ is  _ his normal?), and ask if there’s aspirin anywhere. Then he’ll tell them he has a headache, and he’s pretty sore. That’s okay, right? 

His body feels fuzzy as he makes his way towards the gaping hole in the wall. He does note that it’s somewhat patched up, with wood and cardboard and duct tape (his dad being the likely culprit for use of that material). Bismuth probably helped with the majority of that, though he’s not quite sure how long it’s been since… that. Enough time to fix the house up a little. To be fair, he doesn’t really remember how bad it looked before. That’s probably a good thing.

The whispers grow louder as he approaches the group of figures, and had he been focused, he would’ve been able to make out what’s being said. To him, it just sounds like incoherent humming, perhaps because he’s tired, or because of this killing headache. 

It’s not long before Garnet realizes he’s approaching. Her visored head turns towards Steven before he even steps out of the shadows. 

“Steven.” She says, a rare, light tone to her voice.

This causes everyone to turn towards him, and once again his face heats and flushes, dusting his cheeks with a thankfully deep pink that certainly doesn't make him glow.

Pearl speaks up, too. “Oh, Steven!” 

“Uh…” 

He wasn’t expecting this type of reaction. To be fair, he wasn’t really expecting anything in particular, but everyone’s staring eyes are making him uncomfortable. “Hi guys.” Smooth.

He takes a few more steps out of the house, and his dad meets him, rushing forward and encasing him in a gentle hug. He tenses at first, but relaxes into his dad’s warm arms.

“Hey, schtuball.”

His dad pulls away a bit so he can look Steven in the face. “How’d you sleep?”

“Good, I guess.” 

In all honesty, it wasn’t a good sleep, nor was it a bad one. It just kind of… was. 

“Good, good. Are you still tired?”

Steven slightly tunes out on accident, the pounding of his head distracting him. In the near distance, he can see the faces of Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl watching him.

“Steven…?”

“Oh, uh yeah! Yeah, I guess so.” He agrees, not wanting to think about things more than he has to. 

The gems walk over to where they’re standing. “You’ve been asleep for like, over a day. You’re still tired?” Amethyst says.

Though her tone is not accusatory in any way, Steven does feel a bit called out. His face burns and he presses the heel of his palm against his forehead in an attempt to dissuade his headache. His face twists into a slight grimace, as it doesn’t help.

Everyone seems to notice this, and his dad asks, “Are you okay?” with panic clearly evident in his wavering voice.

No, dad, he’s obviously not okay. He’s the opposite of okay. Nothing about what’s happening in his life right now is okay.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He lies, not convincing anyone. After an expectant pause, he continues. “Just have, uh, a bit of a headache. I was looking for some painkillers.”

Everyone seems to visibly relax when he says that, likely happy that he’s not going to turn into a giant pink monster as spines suddenly erupt from his back. Yeah, he remembers that part.

“Oh, hey, kiddo, no worries! I got some in the van! Let me run over and grab a couple.” Greg says, patting Steven on the shoulder quickly before turning around.

Steven can just see the outline of the van in the distance, resting about where he last saw it on the beach, but looking considerably less broken. Huh. To be fair, he hadn’t really been paying attention to stuff like that when he returned from living with Jasper (don’t think about why, don’t, dont-), instead focusing on, well, helping people? Helping himself? At this point, it’s clear neither of those things were accomplished. 

“So, Steven…” Pearl starts, grabbing the boy's attention, “We just thought-“

Amethyst interrupts her. “Dude, you know we love you, right? And it’s okay if you don’t love yourself right now, because you can and-“

And Garnet interrupts Amethyst, repeating something she had said to Steven earlier: “We will always be your family. No matter what. No matter what you do, we’ll all still love you.”

And, well. That’s certainly something. And probably a bit too much for Steven to handle currently, being half asleep while his other half is assaulted by his aching head. So instead of a coherent response, he just mumbles out “Sure,” which wasn’t the best sounding and elegant thing to say, but it got the job done. The job at this point is creating a response. In no way would he be able to console the gems about his well being through a well thought-out reply. He’s just too tired, and is in too much pain. He can beat himself up about his reservedness later.

It's fine though, at least for the time being, as the gems pull him into a group hug. Once again, he initially tenses, but this time he doesn’t relax. Not intentionally, of course; he loves the gems. They literally are his family. But it’s just the fact that he’s the  _ slightest _ bit overwhelmed right now, and his pain gets progressively worse with every passing second. Why, he has no clue (like many things going on in his life at the moment), but it’s not like he can do anything about it except wait for his dad to return.

Thankfully, everyone seems to notice his discomfort, and they all pull out of the hug rather quickly. Steven notices a bit of disappointment not exactly hidden on their faces, but he doesn’t mention it. Or try to explain himself, which he should probably do. 

However, his dad’s coming back now, and Steven lets out a small sigh of relief as he glimpses the small bottle in his father’s hands. He greedily reaches out for it, not even vocalizing his need, but his dad doesn’t seem to mind. He opens the container and places three tablets into Steven’s awaiting palm, and the younger boy quickly moves to dry-swallow them.

After that, since the goal he set out to complete has been accomplished (which, wow, that hasn’t happened in a while, has it?) he kind of collapses with exhaustion. Maybe he is tired. Not the tired of wanting to sleep, but the tired of wanting to lay down and never get up because just the simple act of living seems like too much work.

“Dad…” He mutters, his voice creaky and soft, “What time is it?”

“Hm, I think around one in the morning. I left my watch in the van.”

It’s quiet for a while then, like everyone is trying to figure out something to say. Steven isn’t, obviously, but the gems and his dad all look like they have a thousand questions for him on the tip on their tongues. Pearl is the one who breaks the silence, though, thankfully not with a difficult question.

“Steven, are you hungry?” 

And, well. He should be, right? Amethyst mentioned something about him being asleep for over a day, and he can’t even remember the last time he’d eaten before that. Let alone all the energy he’s been wasting. But for some reason… 

He feels nauseous even thinking about food. He feels nauseous in general, sick. He’s sick, isn’t he? Sick in the body, but especially sick in the head. He almost killed everyone, he  _ did _ kill someone, oh god, oh-

Fat tears form at the corners of his eyes, and the sudden collapse of Steven’s body out of his dad’s arms and onto the deck floor seems to shock everyone, including himself. The wood is rough against his skin, but that doesn’t matter. The tears keep flowing from his eyes now; there’s no staunching the continuous stream. It’s a kind of silent cry, but he does breathe heavily in gasps. 

“I'm sorry.” He chokes out eventually, and keeps going, “I’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry-“

Everyone stares at him, stunned by the abruptness of his crying. Pearl is the first one to break out of the stupor.

“No, no, Steven… It’s okay.” She says, moving forward slowly and reaching her hand out to him.

“It’s not!” He screams, and Pearl flinches back “It’s not! I… I! I-“ He can’t continue, overwhelmed by his cries.

Ah. Haha. They’re scared of him, aren’t they? Who wouldn’t be!? He could kill them, right now. He doesn’t want to, but! But he could! Maybe he does want to. Apparently some part of him does. The part that destroyed the house, and destroyed the town, and fled to Homeworld, and tried to kill White Diamond, and did kill Jasper- 

But that’s him. It’s him. It’s him. It’s Steven Universe. And he’s absolutely out of control.

He laughs.  _ This _ , he finds funny. Everyone looks scared, and backs away from him. His hands glow pink. He stands up, tears still rolling steadily from his eyes, but a large grin spreading across his face. Ha ha. He’s gone insane again. But that’s the funny part, isn’t it? It’s all him. Not Rose, or Pink Diamond, or whoever his mom was. Not the gems, or his dad, or some other enemy trying to kill him. No, it’s just him. 

He smiles even wider, and it hurts his face. The salt from his tears tastes sweet on his lips. His head is on fire. Steven looks Pearl dead in the eyes. She’s the closest.

Her eyes widen even more than they already were, looking up at Steven towering above her. Her eyes are so wide, he can see a blurry reflection of himself in their pale glow. Forget the moon, his pink blaze is what shines in her eyes. His hair, his face, his eyes-

Diamonds.

-

He runs. 

Down the steps

Onto the beach.

And falls into the sand.


	2. Beach talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so so much for the kudos and all the kind words! i'm glad people are enjoying the story so far :)
> 
> that being said, i hope you enjoy this next chapter!

It’s not long before the pain returns, no longer pushed to the side. A little longer, and he senses the presence of figures behind him. 

Steven’s body shakes as his hands clench into the coarse sand. His nails get caught on larger pieces of rock, which dig into his skin. He’s hot with shame, but the chill of the ocean night washes over his body to make him feel even more awful. 

He just wants to sleep.

Forever.

“Schtuball…?”

He reacts to the sound of his father, the words ricocheting off the walls of his mind in painful bursts. His form shakes more, his hunched over body pressing his head closer to the ground.

“It’s okay, Steven. We’re not mad.”

He tries to respond, say ‘You should be,’ but it only comes out as a barely audible groan.

“C’mon, Steven, it’s okay.” His dad reiterates, crouching next to his son and kneeling in the sand.

He feels like he’s going to throw up. “m’ sorry,” He slurs, “I lost control again.”

He could have shattered them. And he would have no one to blame but himself. (He  _ has _ shattered someone. Why won’t they say it? Why won’t they call him out as the murderer he is, and punish him?)

(He deserves it)

Bile rises quickly in Steven’s throat, and he barely has time to move before he spits up acid onto the sand. He dry heaves some more, but he really hasn’t eaten anything, so there’s nothing left in his stomach. It’s hard to breathe though, and the hacking coughs trying to expel what little is inside him are no help. 

Gasping for breath, he pushes himself away from his dad and the gems, trying to… well. He’s not exactly sure. Get away? He’s tried that, and spoiler: it’s unsuccessful. 

His dad ignores the small patches of sand dampened with stomach acid, and moves with Steven so he can comfort his son.

He doesn’t deserve it. Not really. If his dad knew even half of what he’s done…

“m’ sorry.” Steven gasps again, “i’m sorry.”

Pearl speaks up from where she stands, a few feet back. “Steven… You don’t need to be sorry. You just… Please, Steven. Tell us what’s wrong.” The desperation in her voice grows with every word leaving her mouth.

He needs to pull himself together. He’s worrying everyone. He needs to fix that. 

Steven finally looks up, everyone’s figures blurry and swaying in his vision. “Nothing.” 

It’s clearly a lie, and everyone knows it.

To Steven’s surprise, his father retorts his lame excuse of an explanation with uncharacteristically commanding words. “Steven. You know that’s not true. Come on, son. Tell us. What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?”

A gentle hand brushes locks of hair out of Steven’s face. He hazily glances at the gems, all kneeling on the sand now, watching him intently. Sadness reigns across all of their expressions. They pity him, don’t they? Whatever. He’ll tell them what they want to know.

“Heh, you want to know what’s going on in my head?” He rasps out, and quickly continues after no response to his rhetorical question. “I’m a shatterer. I shattered Jasper. I killed her because I couldn't control myself. I’m a threat! And i’m a fraud. You all think i’m so great, but…” He sniffles, his throat hurting from speaking and the burning acid. “But i’m bad. So why.. Why treat me like i’m something worth saving?”

It’s not that long of a ‘speech’ so to speak, but his fatigue makes it seem endless. At this point, the words just tumble out of his mouth. There’s no rhyme or reason to his rambling, but his dad  _ did _ ask what he was thinking about. And he’s thinking about every single thing he’s ever done wrong.

“I want to… I wanted to…  _ hurt _ people. Maybe I still do, I- I don’t know-“ He looks down at his hands, which are cut with shards of rock from the beach. It’s ironic, in a way.

“I don’t want to feel like this.” He finally admits, the words draining what little energy he had left. His shoulders drop, and he gazes at everyone with drooping eyes. “I don’t want to feel like there’s this…  _ weight _ … constantly resting on me. I can’t breathe.” 

As if to prove his point, he takes a deep inhale, and as he releases the air there’s a deep, jabbing pain in his chest. 

Everyone is silent after that, likely contemplating how to respond. Garnet’s been pretty quiet, and so has Amethyst; the former probably looking at possible future paths (although recently that hasn’t helped her, at least in regards to Steven) and the latter probably too nervous and uncomfortable with the situation to actually speak up. Pearl has tried to console him previously in futile attempts, and now she just has her hands covering her mouth. It’s another reminder of what his mom did to her. What his mom did to everyone.

He can’t get angry about it this time, though. Can’t muster up the energy. And, doing so would be extremely hypocritical of him. He’s exactly like his mom, exactly like Pink Diamond. At least  _ she _ changed for the better. Steven’s changing for the worse.

Once again, Steven’s dad is the one that takes charge for a change. “It’ll be okay, Steven.” He places a hand on Steven’s back and starts rubbing in gentle circles. It’s usually relaxing, but it only causes more tension for the younger boy.

He wants to shout and scream and tear the beach apart. But he won’t. At least he can have some control. (At least he’s so exhausted that it’s possible).

“Why… why won’t you punish me? Why do you all still think i’m good?” He gives a sort of half chuckle without a smile. “There has to be repercussions. You can’t just let me get away with this!”

No one responds, so he takes it upon himself to continue. “I’m bad.” He whispers, “I’m bad and you can’t keep excusing my actions. I’m not that little kid who saved the galaxy anymore. I’m a fake.”

_ Monster _ , his mind supplies,  _ he’s a monster _ .

Still, no one says anything, and oh god, he’s screwed up even more, now they’re not even on speaking terms, though it’s probably better this way because he always-

Suddenly, there’s several pairs of arms being wrapped around his shivering body. He flinches at first, but tries to relax. This is his family. Come on, don’t be scared of them. (Don’t hurt them).

“I think you’ve been punished enough, Schtuball.” His dad says, voice muffled slightly by bodies surrounding him.

Hmm, has he though? Has he really been punished enough for  _ killing _ someone? For turning into a threat that rivals the power of the diamonds? (Well, he  _ is _ a diamond, isn’t he?)

“Yeah, Steven, you gotta stop being so hard on yourself!” Amethyst adds, “I know it’s not easy, but you got us!” Pearl hums in agreement.

Garnet is the next to speak. “We love you, Steven.”

“I know,” He starts, muttering under his breath, “But…” Steven lifts his head a bit so his voice can be heard more clearly, “You.. you  _ shouldn’t, _ ”

And. Well. That’s the problem, isn’t it? They  _ do _ love him. But they shouldn’t. Not after everything he’s done. Not after what he’s become. 

At this point, they should just get rid of him. Everyone else has, right? Lars, Sadie, his own  _ dad _ , for a while there, until he felt obligated to help his son. And, as much as Connie doesn’t want to admit it, she’d be better off without Steven as well. He’s served his purpose. He saved everyone, right? He took that responsibility upon himself (no, it was pushed onto him, he had no choice-) so no one should have to return the favor. He’s done what he had to do. He established peace. He ended the diamond's tyrannical reign. He’s helped all the crystal gems, with problems big and small. It would be selfish of him to expect the same in return. You can’t just… expect people to help you. That’s not how it works.

(They shouldn’t have to, he’s not worth it)

(That’s why he tried to pretend)

(He’s a fraud)

(But he couldn’t even pretend right)

“Sorry to say it,” His dad starts, shaking Steven out of his thoughts, “But you’re wrong, bud. I could give you an infinite list of reasons why I love you, and i’m sure the gems could, too.”

Everyone else responds in verbal agreement to Greg’s words. Steven disagrees  _ vehemently _ , but is way too tired to argue his point. 

They all sit there in silence for a moment, surely a strange sight had anyone stumbled across the group. No one does, though, and they’re left undisturbed as they all sit in the sand, moonlight washing over their silhouettes. For Steven, it feels like forever, though in reality it’s probably just a few minutes. His eyes are lidded and heavy, and he tries to keep them open to no avail. He’s tired; that’s the long and short of it. He feels awful for disturbing everyone’s night by freaking out and yelling at everyone and running away (sort of), but that’s just par for the course at this point, right? (Just another thing to add to the list of reasons he should feel horrible).

Nobody’s moving though, it seems, likely not wanting to deprive Steven of the comfort he doesn’t need or deserve. They’re waiting for him apparently, but… 

Well, despite the rough sand and the wind chill, Steven is pretty content with the position they’re in. At least, that’s what his body tells him. His mind is screaming at him, telling him he doesn’t need this, that they’re better off doing  _ literally _ anything else. They should forget about him, restrain him and lock him away somewhere where he can’t hurt anyone and they can just… stop thinking about him. Out of sight, out of mind. He’s a threat, he’s  _ hurt _ everyone. 

He’s run out of good karma from his past self’s deeds. There’s no reason to care about him anymore. He’s, well, useless. Actually, scratch that, he’s  _ less _ than useless. He’s not just being unhelpful, he’s actively ruining the lives of the people around him. Even trying to help only ended in disaster. In a single day, he managed to essentially destroy Little Homeworld, at the very least inconveniencing every single person living there. Then he… well. That whole thing. 

So, yeah. Less than useless.

And he would try running away, but look where that got him: he’s now a shatterer. Of course, that can’t all be blamed on running away, since it’s his messed up mind that led him to s-… Jasper…

(Don’t think about it- think about it- don’t- do- don’t-)

And even forgetting the gems for a second, he’s completely oblivious on how to interact with humans. He  _ used  _ to be able to, at least in some way, but now it’s like there’s a total disconnect. Which makes him even more isolated, but Connie-

Oh god, Connie. He doesn’t even want to think about all the messed up stuff he’s put her through. All he knows is that she’d be so much less stressed without him around, without having to think about him. It’s clear he’s caused her enough stress already. She has college to think about now! And all those AP classes she’s taking! She has a life planned out for her, and it doesn’t- or at least it shouldn’t- include Steven. 

Ha, it’s kind of funny how he could go through a list of every single person in his life, and find a plethora of reasons why they’d be better off without him around. His dad: he could live a life without worrying about his terrible son and just go on tour with Saddie and Shep. Lars: He doesn’t  _ need _ Steven anymore, he’s his own amazing person that can take care of himself and others, and doesn’t need any random interruptions from that annoying kid falling out of his hair. Bismuth: She’s living a happy and successful life now, with those classes she’s teaching at the shop- she doesn’t need the constant reminder of why she was bubbled for centuries walking around her every day. And the gems: clearly they’ve been doing fine without him, and with him around it’s impossible for them not to worry about him- oh, he doesn't know- maybe destroying the house for the hundredth time? Causing mass panic at Little Homeschool? Possible shattering one of them?

Honestly, he could go on and on in his mind with reasons. But they all come down to one thing: No one needs him. He’s less than worthless because he consistently causes devastation to anyone in contact with him. As awful as it sounds, he deserves Lapis’ previous, unwarranted fate. She didn’t, but he does. To be trapped and locked away in a place no one would look. Broken beyond repair, and forgotten. For eons, unable to escape. Unloved and uncared for.

It sounds terrible.

It sounds like he deserves it.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem like a plausible solution. It’s not like he could go up to just anyone and ask them, ‘hey, can you please crack my gem and shove me into some inanimate object so I can be forgotten by time?’ No one would agree to that, especially with him being a diamond, and a so called “savior.” Plus, it’s not even guaranteed to be permanent anyway. Sure, he doubts another ‘Steven’ would come along and free him, but the gems and his dad would probably try to for some reason. At this point, it seems like the best thing would be to just end it forever and k-

No.

“I’m tired.” He finally says, softly. “I just want to go to sleep.”

“Okay, kiddo.” His dad says with a similar volume, warmness evident in his voice, “We can make that happen.”

And with those words, Steven lets his eyes finally close and blacks out.


	3. Waffles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m so glad people are liking this so far! not much to say but thank you! as always, kudos and comments are so so so appreciated! :)

This time, when he wakes up, he’s definitely more aware of what’s happening. This time, the sun peaks through his window and shines directly into Steven’s eyes, causing him to squint. And this time, he checks his clock to see what time it is.

11:32 am

Huh.

For someone who slept over a day prior, he really slept in. 

His chest hurts. 

Thankfully, his head has stopped its pounding (though there  _ is _ a subtle, yet persistent, ache) and he feels a bit less stiff. But… his chest. It’s heavy and sore and makes him slightly nauseous, although he doubts he’ll be able to throw up again.

It’s probably the guilt.

Just push it aside.

He feels awful.

So what better to do than apologize? (He can think of several different things that would be better by his standards, but they’re less practical- like sleeping some more) Plus, he totally owes it to everyone. Since, you know, he completely scared everyone once  _ again _ , after that first meltdown. 

So, screw it. It’s time for him to get the hell out of bed and apologize. He can  _ fix  _ this. He can fix things. That’s what he does. (No it isn’t. He hasn’t really  _ fixed  _ anything recently)

Steven pushes himself out of bed, briefly wondering how he got there in the first place. Someone must’ve carried him. The thought causes another pang of pain in his chest. The sheets were made once more, and he had been tucked in nicely. Pretty kind of whoever did it, considering it was someone who had just been attacked by him.

The stairs, once a brutal enemy, seem to be considerably less hostile as he makes his way down them today. Steven hears sounds coming from the kitchen, and even though his head is slightly clouded still, he catches the scent of… pancakes? It smells sweet. It only makes him feel more sick.

Pearl is the first to notice him, as he’s halfway down the stairs. “Oh, Steven!” 

She’s the source of the smell, standing at the stove with a small plate of waffles (he was close enough, they’re basically the same thing). The rarely used waffle iron rests upon the counter, a small beep indicating another batch is done.

“I was just about to wake you!” Pearl says, turning her attention back to the waffle maker. She takes the waffle out and places in onto the stacked plate, carefully making sure the edges all line up.

Amethyst is sitting at the counter. “Hey, Ste-man.” She flashes a peace sign at him as she looks up from her phone. 

It’s… suspicious. They’re acting- not too  _ nice _ , since they’re always nice- but strange. Ignorant. Like they’re trying to forget what happened last night (and the day before that, and the week before that, and every single mistake Steven’s made on his downward spiral-). Like he would be that lucky. They’re probably scared of him freaking out. They’re probably scared of him, period.

“Oh, h-hey, guys.” Steven responds, his own croaky voice surprising him.

He’s been standing on the stairs too long, hasn’t he? It’s getting weird. He should get down. Yeah. And… join them…? For breakfast? That sounds about right.

It’s a little strange-  _ suspicious- _ that Pearl’s making breakfast. Considering the fact that she  _ doesn’t eat.  _ It’s not that she hasn’t ever cooked, especially for Steven, but it’s just rare. Even more rare since she started working at Little Homeschool, since…

Well. She  _ was  _ busy. But it was always Steven who missed out on spending time with them. Because he let his responsibilities get in the way. Even after he quit, though, he  _ still  _ didn’t spend much time with  _ anyone _ but himself.

God, he’s a mess.

An over-analyzing mess. Just let Pearl make the goddamned breakfast in peace, jeez.

Pearl smiles at him as he sits down next to Amethyst at the counter, bringing the plate over to him. “I made breakfast for you, Steven! It’s not quite ‘together breakfast,’ since we didn’t have some of the ingredients, but they  _ are _ homemade. I’ve heard those frozen, store-bought ones you usually have aren’t as good as making them from scratch.” Pearl looks proud of herself.

Wow, she really  _ did  _ put a lot of effort into breakfast, it seems, making the mix from scratch and all. “Thank you.” Steven replies, trying his best to give a sincere smile, although he doubts it reaches his eyes. It’s not that he’s not appreciative! He certainly is. It’s just… kind of  _ hard _ to muster the energy and excitement needed for a proper response. Thankfully, no one comments on it.

The breakfast really does smell good. Amethyst tosses him a fork, which he’s not able to catch. Luckily, it doesn’t fall on the floor, and just lands next to him on the table. 

“Whoops, sorry dude.”

She doesn’t mention that a toss like that should have been no problem at all for Steven. He can catch up and fuse with falling gems in midair, but can’t catch a fork being thrown at him from a foot away? Yeah, sure. (His hands are shaking a little bit, not noticeable to anyone else. Hopefully.)

And yes, while the waffles  _ do _ both look and smell good, Steven just… can’t eat them. It’s basically guaranteed they’re delicious, but he’s simply not hungry. He should be though, right? When did he last eat?

He’s pushing the food around his plate for about a minute before Pearl finally says something. “What’s the matter Steven?”

“I…” How does he explain that he’s not hungry? It’s been long established he needs food to live, and everyone probably knows that he  _ hasn’t _ eaten recently. Well, rather blunt than not at all- “I-I’m not hungry?”

It’s more of a question than a statement, since Steven himself is confused as to why. In fact, he hasn’t really been hungry at all the past few weeks, especially after that unmentionable  _ thing _ with Connie. He did have a burger with his dad, which he feels pretty guilty about, since he  _ was _ a vegetarian previously, though he wasn’t in the mindset to deal with that on his little outing (just add it to the list, huh?). 

“Well, if you’re not gonna eat it…” Amethyst trails off, eyes on the prize- or, well, waffles.

Steven catches Pearl giving the other gem a harsh glance, before not so subtly reprimanding her. “Amethyst!”

“I kid, I kid.” Amethyst replies, winking at Steven. “Besides, it’s too good looking for my taste.”

Pearl raises an eyebrow. “Garbage?”

“You got it, P.” Amethyst looks almost expectantly at Steven, whose face remains mostly neutral. Is she looking for… a smile? A laugh? How would he normally react? 

When it’s clear she’s not getting anything out of the boy, she continues. “‘Sides, Steven usually loves homemade waffles.” She turns back to him. “Are you sure you’re not hungry, Steven?”

“Yes!” He replies, too aggressively. He realizes that fact the moment the words pass his lips, and immediately goes to correct himself. “I mean, yes. I’m sure.” He finishes, softly.

Why is he so irritable? He knows why, of course, but seriously. He needs to stop. It’s not only obnoxious; it’s scary and potentially harmful. He  _ saw _ the way Amethyst and Pearl just flinched at his initial response. That’s not acceptable. 

It’s quiet for a moment before he continues once more. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shout. I should just… just…” What? Run away from his problems again? Typical. He’s just like his mom.

Thankfully, Pearl interrupts before he can finish his thought. “No, Steven. Don’t worry! It’s okay.”

“Yeah, man, no worries!”

They’re just saying that so he doesn’t shatter them accidently. Because, you know, he’s a  _ shatterer. _ And everyone knows it.

“It’s not…” He mumbles, just under his breath.

The two gems either don’t hear him, or ignore it for the time being- if the latter is true, Steven is grateful. There’s no time to get into what a hindrance he is, how he’s an unstoppable destructive force. 

Well, actually, there’s plenty of time most likely. It’s not like he’s ever going to be able to set foot in Little Homeworld again, let alone the school. If not by his own means (since he won’t be able to face everyone after the pain he’s caused them), then by the gems trying to protect the place. Can’t have Steven wrecking everything yet again, can they?

Besides that (which is definitely not happening, at least any time soon), there’s nothing else that can plausibly occupy his time. At least in a way that’s meaningful. Sure he could take up gardening again or some other hobby he’s not truly interested in, but that’s an inevitable failure, isn’t it? God knows all the “gardening” he’s been doing has been disastrous rather than helpful.

So yeah, guess he has plenty of time to dig into his personal thoughts. Doesn’t mean he wants to, though. And definitely doesn’t mean he’s going to. 

It’s really not  _ that _ big of an issue. Sure, he might have killed someone and demolished the house and almost the whole town, but no, it’s not  _ that _ big a deal. Really.  _ Really. _

Ugh, his head’s starting to hurt again. Not as bad as last night, but still… It’s like his thoughts are tearing each other apart, conflicting and crashing against one another. He’s fine then he’s not fine. He’s sane then he’s insane. He’s helpful, then he’s a relentless catastrophic force that’s fueled by insurmountable anger.

He’s Steven Universe. Then he’s Pink Diamond.

Is there even a difference?

“Oh, Steven. You’re up.”

Garnet’s voice interrupts Steven’s thoughts, causing the boy to look towards their source. Obviously, it’s Garnet, though it seems she just warped in. She’s standing on the warp pad, just beginning to walk over to the kitchen. Interesting. He didn’t even hear it go off.

“Hi Garnet.” Pearl says eventually, realizing Steven isn’t going to respond.

“Heya Garnet,” Amethyst greets the taller gem as well, giving a quick wave. “Are you back from your meeting with the-”

She’s promptly cut off by Garnet. “Yes.”

Well, They’re not telling him something. That’s an easy conclusion to come to. Not that they don’t have the right to secrets, since Steven isn’t a stranger to them himself, but still. It bothers him more than it should. Though, that’s probably because there’s a high chance what they’re not telling Steven pertains to him anyway. Seems like a lot of conversation is related to him nowadays, huh?

Well figures. That tends to happen when you do what he did.

“Breakfast looks good.” Garnet comments, sparing a glance at Steven’s untouched plate. The waffles are probably lukewarm by now. 

“Not hungry.” He replies, clipped. 

“Hm.” 

Garnet looks like she senses Steven’s irritability, which he’s both annoyed by and thankful for. She has a look on her face (her very unreadable face,  _ especially _ with those visors, ugh) like she’s slightly disappointed, but not going to force him. Maybe he’s just projecting that, though. 

Well, whatever it is, she’s not going to make him do anything. Which is good, in a way. But it also makes him feel bad, since the only reason she wouldn’t be forcing him is because he’d probably lose control. For the millionth time. 

Again, it grows silent for a few moments. However, this time it’s interrupted by the front door almost slamming open (since when was the front door back? He really needs to thank Bismuth for repairing all the messes he’s made). Connie’s face pops into view, her untied hair looking slightly frizzy and mussed up. She’s a bit flustered, and there’s slight bags under her eyes, but honestly she still looks really cute. When doesn’t she though?

“Steven!” Connie shouts, running over to him. Steven’s suddenly engulfed in a tight hug.

It’s brief, but even after Connie pulls away there’s a lingering scent that’s so unmistakably  _ her _ , like new books and strawberries, and that perfume she occasionally wears- the one that’s never too strong but it’s just enough that it’s perfect. Like her. “How are you?” She asks.

And for a second, for a fleeting moment, he wants to break. He wants to tell her everything. How he’s  _ not _ good, and he’s not good at all because he’s so  _ bad _ and  _ awful  _ and everything in between. How he’s so  _ tired _ of being tired. How he just wants to go away so everybody can be happy again.

But, it’s only for a second. He can’t  _ really _ tell her all that. Steven’s put her through enough as is. He’s put them  _ all _ through enough.

So he replies, telling her, “I’m okay.” Which… He really tries to convince himself that it’s not a lie, at least partly. He doesn’t want to lie to Connie, the only human who’s truly been there for him at every moment. So, he’s okay. Sure. He’s okay physically, at the minimum. (Which also isn’t really true, since his body still aches, but…)

“That’s good.” Connie replies, doubt heavily lacing her words. She clearly doesn’t believe him. And she can’t be faulted for that. Steven’s not necessarily the best liar right now. Perhaps because he’s so obviously  _ not okay _ , and any attempt to convince anyone that he is could be easily disputed by the fact that he turned into a literal monster. 

Everyone in the room turns back to the door as a sound comes from it’s direction. Scratching…? 

“Oh, Lion!” Steven realizes, getting up from his stool to let the pink cutiepie in. 

“I rode him here, but your dad’s also on the way.” Connie starts, walking over to pet Lion as Steven opens the door. “I stopped by the carwash on the way here, and he told me to see if you were up, and if you were to tell you that he had to do a few things in town, but would be here as soon as possible.”

“Thanks, Connie.”

A sudden, wet feeling causes Steven to quickly look at his arm. Lion’s nose pushes against his skin, and, well. It’s honestly adorable. He can’t help but give a small laugh. It’s funny how the room feels just a little bit lighter after that. A little bit.

“No problem!” Connie places her palm on Steven’s shoulder, and her fingers slide down his arm till their hands intertwine. She looks him in the eyes. “I meant to come sooner,” She starts, just quietly enough that the conversation is private, “But my parents were worried, and wanted to make sure I didn’t miss any school.” She sighs, “I tried to tell them you were more important, but they wouldn’t listen!”

Steven laughs again, but this time it’s fake. “No, Connie. School  _ is  _ important.” She looks like she’s about to interrupt and dispute the statement, but Steven keeps talking to make sure she doesn’t. “Plus, I was basically sleeping the whole time, anyway.”

“Hm, well… I’ve just been worried about you.” She admits.

Steven almost,  _ almost  _ replies and says that she shouldn’t be, that there’s no reason to worry about him, but… That would be unbelievable. Connie wouldn’t even think twice about calling him out on his bullshit.

Instead, though, he just kinda gives an awkward chuckle and walks back over to where the gems are sitting. Connie follows him, while Lion yawns and collapses onto the couch.

The gems are watching both of them, thankfully not diving into another private conversation where they can divulge more tales of Steven’s failures and the consequences of them. He sees Connie glance at the untouched breakfast, but fortunately doesn’t say anything. However, she has this sad look on her face, like everyone else has had ever since he woke up that first time yesterday. The look of  _ pity _ and  _ sympathy _ that Steven despises. He’s too tired to get angry though, and that’s probably a good thing.

“Well, Steven.” Pearl begins, clasping her hands together, “It’s Saturday, so there’s not much for us to do today.”

Amethyst joins in. “Yeah, dude, we can totally hang out with you this whole weekend! Take it easy, ya know?

“And since it’s the weekend, my parents said it’s okay for me to stay over! If I keep up with my work, of course.” Connie mutters the last part.

Steven wonders if Connie told her parents what happened. She must have told them  _ something _ , since they’re letting her stay the weekend for seemingly no special occasion. 

“Hmm. Take it easy, huh?” He wonders out loud. It sounds boring, but perfectly doable. Plus, he’s not in the mood or mindset to really do anything substantial right now. Taking it easy doesn’t only sound appealing, but more so the only plausible option.

So take it easy. 

“I think I could do that.” Steven says softly, and everyone in the room smiles at him.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ngl i was writing garnets dialogue, and something just,,, seemed off? so i kept looking and finally realized why she seems so out of character
> 
> i had her asking a question lmao


	4. Taking It Easy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not much to say, but thank you all! hope you enjoy the chapter :)

It turns out “taking it easy” is harder than expected.

It’s just so…so… boring. He’s been on “house arrest” for about two and a half weeks now. He’s just not used to staying inside all the time. Sure, he hasn’t  _ explicitly _ been told by the gems that he’s not allowed to leave, but it’s kind of implied. Plus, he’s not exactly sure he can trust himself, either.

But that doesn’t mean it’s less boring. Steven finds himself sleeping in more often than not, because, well, there’s just nothing to look forward to. He has no plans. He has no goals. He’s always had something to do, something to fix, and  _ not _ having anything just feels wrong.

The gems try and keep him busy, but it’s hard since they still have responsibilities in Little Homeworld. Same with Connie; she tries to come around as often as possible, but she still has school. She does, however, promise that she’s almost on vacation, and her parents are being pretty lax about studying over break. Something about your best friend turning into a monster because he couldn’t handle his emotions really puts things into perspective.

And his dad. Oh, his dad. He’s probably the only reason Steven hasn’t gone insane yet. Or at least  _ more _ insane than he already is. Sadie and Shep are still on tour, but his dad promised that he wouldn’t go back to join them unless… Well, unless. Unless Steven gets his shit together, but god knows that isn’t happening any time soon.

The way his dad is caring for him now is awfully familiar to when Connie had rejected him. It’s not bad, but he does feel like there’s less structure than he’d like. He’s allowed to sleep in, he’s allowed to have ice cream for meals, he’s allowed to watch tv for hours without even moving from the couch. The only real rule is that Steven’s not allowed to stay up in his room by himself. Which makes sense.

He doesn’t like it, really. The leniency. He loves his dad, of course, but he’s not a strict man. Steven realizes now that it’s probably because of the way he grew up. Greg’s parents were too strict- too overbearing. He’s had a lot of time to think about their argument. He’s had a lot of time to think, in general. 

He thinks about what he should do to preoccupy himself. Nothing comes to mind. He thinks about his dad and his strict life before he ran away. He thinks about Little Homeworld, and hopes everyone’s doing well there. He thinks about Lapis, Bismuth, and Peridot, and how they’re doing such good work in town. He thinks about his family. He thinks about Connie. He even thinks about visiting Lars, because he’s been doing a lot of thinking and he wants to do more doing instead. 

(He doesn’t think about the actual source of the problem, however. Himself.)

He tells his dad this, while they’re both sitting on the couch. As they’ve been doing these days.

“I just… want to do something, you know?” He asks, and his dad nods in understanding. “I need something to do. I hate just sitting around, it’s like there’s no structure to my life anymore.”

Strangely, it feels good to let at least some of his thoughts out.

“Would that help? Structure, I mean.” His dad asks, and Steven thinks about it for a moment.

“Yeah, I think so.”

And it’s... nice that his dad is taking the time to listen to what he has to say. It’s nice that he’s not immediately opposed to the idea of ‘structure,’ even with his dictatorial upbringing. 

“Well, we can do that, Schtuball. If you think it’d make you feel better?”

“Yes.” 

He feels like he should explain, but he doesn’t want to. Besides, his dad isn’t asking ‘ _ why,’ _ he’s asking ‘ _ how. _ ’  _ How _ can he make his son feel better?

His dad puts an arm around his shoulders, and Steven leans into the touch. A few moments pass, the dull ads on tv being the only background noise. “I want to be helpful.” He says eventually.

“Steven…” 

“Everyone’s out there, doing important work. Except for me. And you, but that’s because of me.” He takes a deep breath. It’s oddly liberating to just... talk. “Even though I was so overwhelmed when I ran Little Homeschool, I had something to do. Something I could do, everyday, at certain times. Something that  _ helped _ people. Now, my life just feels…” Bland? Aimless? 

Meaningless?

“You know Steven, I can’t say I get what you’re feeling. I really can’t.” His dad starts, and a weight drops in Steven’s chest. “But what I can tell you is that I’ll love you no matter who you chose to be. Whether it be a couch potato, or a CEO, I just want you to be happy doing what you’re doing.”

“Schtuball, if having structure helps, then we’ll do that.” He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck with his free hand. “I might have to have Pearl help me with that, since you know how I am. Free-roamin’ rock star touring the galaxy?” He chuckles to himself before turning serious again. “I want what’s best for you, but I don’t think I’m exactly… qualified to tell you what to do.”

“Who is?” Steven grumbles, a facetious lilt to his voice.

“Well, I…” He trails off, likely contemplating whether to bring up whatever he’s thinking of. “I’ve been, uh, talking with Dr. Maheswaran. She left me a not-so-happy voicemail after your trip to the doctor.” Steven forces a laugh, if only to lighten the conversation a bit. “Son, we’ve been thinking about maybe getting you a therapist?”

His dad continues on, rambling something about also getting a general practitioner, but Steven’s ears buzz and he zones out. A therapist? That’s… that’s… he’s not  _ broken _ , he doesn’t need- he’s not something to be  _ fixed. _ Because that’s what you do in therapy, right? You lie down on a very uncomfortable looking  chaise longue , while you tell all problems to some random person so that they can “fix” you. With their judgemental eyes, and their stiff, formal clothes. 

And then you’ll say ‘It all started when I was born,’ which isn’t even  _ true _ in Steven’s case since his problem stems from thousands of years of hatred and cruelty. And as he said sarcastically before, who even  _ is _ qualified to help him? There’s never been anything like him before, and he hates it. He’s stuck between two sides, but he can’t pick either. He’s just perpetually in the middle. Human, and gem. Who could understand that?

“No.” He says outloud, interrupting his dad and surprising himself. “No, I don’t want to do that, dad.”

“Steven…” His dad looks torn. On one hand, he wants what’s best for his son. On the other hand, well, he also wants what’s best for his son. If Steven’s unhappy doing something, even if it’s supposed to be beneficial, would it be worth it? “I think you should think about it.” He says carefully.

Steven stands up. “I’m not broken. I- I don’t need to be fixed. Dr. Maheswaran  _ said _ there was nothing wrong with my brain. I’m just… struggling a bit, is all.” He’s grasping for straws at this point, although he’s not exactly helping his case by reacting so strongly. “I’m not broken, dad. I’m- I’m not… I don’t  _ need _ therapy.”

His dad stands up to meet him, placing both of his hands over Steven’s shoulders. The boy tries to avoid his eyes, looking at the floor. “C’mon Steven, look at me for a second.” 

With a trembling lip, Steven forces his gaze to meet his dad’s warm eyes. “Listen to me, Steven. I’ll say this as many times as you need it, kiddo.  _ You’re not broken _ . There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re my son! And I just want you to feel better.” His dad pauses to think for a moment. “Therapy… isn’t something for  _ broken _ people, Steven. It’s just something… to help. To help you sort out your thoughts.”

Steven mumbles the next part to himself. “I don’t need help.”

“What was that, Schtuball?”

He sighs, and tries to force his negative thoughts to the back of his mind. Maybe his dad is right. Maybe not. But he  _ wants _ Steven to do it, and he can’t deny his dad that. Plus, it would give him something to do (albeit a very uncomfortable thing to do, but still something nonetheless).

“I guess… I’ll think about it.” He says eventually. The small smile on his dad’s face makes it worth it.

“I’m glad, Steven.”

-

A few days later, Connie comes over to spend time with him. It’s a saturday, so she’s off from school. Steven decides to bring up the subject of therapy, since Connie’s mom  _ is _ a doctor, and also, you know, the one who recommended therapy in the first place.

They’re both sitting in his room on his bed (which he got up early to clean, by the way), just chatting. Well, in all honesty, Connie’s been the only one really talking since she got here. Steven just likes to hear about her school stuff and any interesting stories from the week. It’s entertaining, although he does feel a bit sad hearing all the things he missed out on by not being… normal.

Connie’s just finishing up a story about how one of her friends went through a whole class period asleep without the teacher noticing, when Steven finally decides to speak.

“My dad, uh, told me he’s been talking to your mom.”

“Oh yeah! She was really angry at him for not taking you to the doctor before.”

“Well, it makes sense sorta.” He replies, “I _am _half gem.”__

____

____

“Hmm, yeah, I guess so.” She pauses, then speaks again when Steven doesn’t say anything. “Why’d you bring it up?”

“Oh! Yeah.” 

He’s only slightly nervous. It’s only because he doesn’t even like the thought of therapy. It feels… wrong. Well, not wrong, but… weird. Strange. Foriegn.

“My dad said something about therapy?” He says finally, more like a question than a statement. “I don’t know, I think Dr. Maheswaran recommended it.”

Connie doesn’t look surprised, and keeps her face surprisingly neutral. “Yeah, that seems like something my mom would do. Do you want to… I mean, are you going to try it?” She asks.

Steven replies by groaning and laying his back against the bed. “I don’t know. I told my dad I’d think about it, but…”

Connie lays down next to him, both of them now staring at the ceiling. “But what?”

“I don’t know.” He puts a hand against his forehead. “I don’t know.”

They both sit in silence for a moment. Steven doesn’t know what to say. Why did he bring it up in the first place? Maybe he just wanted another opinion on the matter. But now he’s just made things awkward.

“Do you want to know what I think?” Connie eventually asks, almost reading his mind. 

“Sure.”

“I think you should try it.”

It’s funny because Steven  _ knew _ she would say that, he  _ knew _ she would encourage him to get help and see a therapist, and yet it still causes an argument to form in his throat. Her own mom recommended it, for goodness sake!

“I know.” 

Connie sits up. “Well…?”

“Well what?”

She looks at him. “What do  _ you _ think?”

Before he can even respond with another ‘I don’t know,’ Connie elaborates. “It doesn’t have to be a yes or no. Just tell me how you feel about it.”

Hm, well that’s an interesting way of framing it. He can work with that. “I feel… conflicted.” He starts, also sitting up so he can be eye to eye with Connie. “I feel like it’s something for messed up people, and I… Well, I guess I am pretty messed up.” He chuckles humorlessly. 

“C’mon Steven, don’t say that. You’ve really dealt with a lot. So much more than anyone else I know. And you’ve handled it better than I probably could.”

He appreciates the sentiment, but that last part wouldn’t be true. Connie’s really adept at handling herself and being responsible. She knows how to take care of herself. Steven doesn’t, clearly.

“Connie, I want to apologize for-” He starts suddenly, but is interrupted quickly.

“Shh. Steven. It’s okay. We can talk about it later. Right now, let’s focus on you, alright?

“But- I, I hurt you, and that was wrong of me to do!” His face flushes a deep red. “I never should have done that, I don’t know why you’re still even here-”

He’s interrupted by warm lips pressing against his cheek. If possible, Steven’s face heats up even more. “Steven you’re my best friend. I’m not going to leave you because  _ you’re _ hurting. I want to be with you, I-”

Connie cuts herself off and grabs Steven’s hands. He leans into her touch, their bodies growing closer. “I love you Steven Universe. And I want you to be happy. So if therapy does that for you, I think you should do it. If not, then you shouldn’t. But you won’t know unless you try.”

Her own face blooms with strengthening color. She’s beautiful, he thinks. Her trademark scent of strawberries permeates the area around her heavy breath. He can feel her heart beating through the bridge of their clasped hands.

“Can I…?”

He doesn’t even finish the thought, but Connie clearly understands what he’s asking. Instead of a response, though, she’s the one to take action.

It’s over as soon as it starts, but Connie guides her lips to Steven’s own, and for one brief moment everything is perfect. For one brief moment, he forgets and allows himself to indulge in the beauty of a gentle kiss, a pure kiss. 

They both pull away, but heat still lingers between them.

“So therapy, huh?” He asks. “That’s a hell of a way to convince me.”

Connie just smiles.


	5. Introductions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoy this chapter! (i'm sorry it's mostly angst, i promise there will be comfort... eventually)
> 
> :)

Therapy is… well. Therapy is interesting. At least the first meeting is, anyway. 

His dad takes him there one day, a Wednesday, since it’s easier to book appointments during the weekdays. Especially because most people are at school or work. Which, you know, Steven isn’t. 

Anyway, it’s a bit of a ride to the building they’re going to- about forty five minutes. The gems all offered to come with them, but Steven declined. Firstly, they all have work in Little Homeschool today, and secondly…

Well it’s just weird. Usually whole families don’t come to therapy. Especially alien families that have no clue about human practices such as “therapy.” To be fair, Steven didn’t either, but he did do some research after his talk with Connie. 

The car ride over is pretty silent. His dad is driving, for blatantly obvious reasons. They’re taking the Dondai, and neither one of them ever moves to stick a cassette in the player. The little conversation they have is just Steven confirming that his dad had talked with Dr. Maheswaran and the therapist beforehand. 

Dr. Maheswaran doesn’t know the individual they’re seeing personally, but several of her patients have gone to the therapist (who Steven forgets the name of right now, but she’s sure to introduce herself when he gets there) and Dr. Maheswaran has only heard good things. She also recommended seeing a psychiatrist, but that can be set up after he finds a general practitioner. Connie’s mom would be his doctor, but that’s not really her specialty and she has a lot of other patients. (She did however promise that if Steven ever needed any medical help and wasn’t comfortable with any other doctors, she would meet with him.)

His dad is really the one setting this stuff up, because frankly he knows more about human stuff than Steven does. Plus, he’s been taking charge recently in caring for his son, likely feeling guilty for not being there as often as he should have been. His own dad’s guilt only makes Steven feel more guilty, since his dad doesn’t deserve to feel bad over stuff that wasn’t really his fault. Sure, he could blame Greg and hate him for the rest of his life, but really? He loves his dad. He’s a good father. He’s made mistakes, but everyone has. Especially Steven. (It’s him that should be leaving Steven, at this point.)

Anyway, when they pull up to the office, Steven is understandably a bit nervous. Therapy is… a lot. Or so he’s heard. From random people on the internet. But he guesses that’s a reliable source as ever, right? Huh, well no backing out now.

They both get out of the car and Steven’s dad plants a hand on his shoulder. “It’s gonna be alright, kiddo.” He says, but it does little to quench his fear. 

The building is pretty big, but as they enter there’s a directory with about fifteen names printed on it. Greg scans the list over, muttering “Anderson, Anderson… Ah, there she is!” He points at one of the names about halfway down the list, unsurprisingly reading “Dr. Anderson,” with the number 302 also listed. 

“Into the elevator!” Steven’s dad says as they walk past the stairs. “Your old man isn’t going to make it up two flights on his own.”

Steven feels obligated to laugh, but his heart’s just not in it. He’s too anxious. And weirded out. Honestly, after this appointment, he shouldn’t come back. Besides, how is some random person going to help him? Let alone a human? There’s no one like Steven Universe in the galaxy, so how could some random Dr. Anderson advise him, anyway?

Whatever. He’ll just get this appointment over with and forget about it. (Even though his dad and Connie will be disappointed with him. Maybe he should at least give it a try before making up his mind?)

When they reach Dr. Anderson’s office, they’re greeted by a small waiting room, with four chairs and an empty desk. Steven and his dad sit down in silence, the latter likely noticing his son’s distant behavior. Eventually a door on the far wall peeks open, and a small woman steps out, holding a clipboard. It immediately makes Steven uneasy. 

“You two must be Greg and Steven Universe, correct?” Her voice is calculating, but still warm. She seems very motherly (and Steven begins to trust her even less).

“Yup, that’s us!” His dad gives an awkward chuckle.

“Is it okay if I just speak to you first, Mr. Universe?” Dr. Anderson asks, “I just wanted to clarify a few things. Then, I’ll meet with both of you, and we’ll see where it goes from there.” She offers Steven a tiny smile, which he pointedly doesn’t return. 

He’s not trying to be a jerk, just… Ugh. He’s being a total jerk. He needs to stop focusing on his irrational (and rude) emotions, and focus on actually being a decent person. It’s not this lady’s fault that Steven’s awful. That’s his own goddamned fault. 

Greg and Dr. Anderson head into the room the latter had come out of, the door closing with a soft click. Steven’s tempted to just book it out of here while they’re both distracted, but again, that’s extremely irrational and stupid. Instead, he looks around the room and fiddles with his hands. It’s pretty dull- cream walls, oak wood floor. He wonders if the room he’ll be going into is more comfortable and homely looking. 

This is dumb. This whole thing. Why’d he agree to this again? Oh right, Connie’s a master at persuading him. Or he’s just weak-willed. It’s probably a combination of the two. 

Steven sits there for a while, totally not getting up to try and eavesdrop one time then sitting back down because the walls are soundproof. Yeah, absolutely did not do that. Eventually, the door opens, and Dr. Anderson beckons him in. 

The next room is, thankfully, more comfortable like Steven hoped it would be. There’s a couch against one wall with a chair across from it, a small table, a shelf with a bunch of miscellaneous items like a deck of cards and some books, and a desk in the far corner with piles upon piles of paperwork. His dad is sitting on the couch, so Steven goes to sit with him. 

Dr. Anderson takes a seat across from them, taking out her clipboard once more. Steven already doesn’t like the clipboard. It seems… invasive. Like she’s going to write stuff about him and everything he says and does will be recorded forever. That’s kind of the point of therapy, but Steven never really wanted therapy in the first place, so. Whatever. 

“So, Steven, your dad here has clarified a few things, since you seem to be a special case. I’ve just gotten into working with some gem clients, so I do have some experience with the culture and history.” Dr. Anderson is looking at him, and Steven looks down at the floor. “Now, I’m just going to ask you a few questions with your dad here, if that’s okay?” He nods his head up and down once. “Okay, then I was thinking I could talk to you one on one? Nothing probing, of course.” She clarifies, “The actual ‘therapy’ so to speak wouldn’t start until our next session, should you choose to continue with me.” Fat chance. 

Okay, maybe he’s being a  _ bit _ harsh on Dr. Anderson, but… He’s just really, really not in the mood for this. And won’t ever be, most likely. 

She asks Steven a bunch of mundane questions, most of them being easy to answer. ‘How are you doing?’ Fine. ‘Have you been to therapy before?’ No. ‘What’s brought you in here today?’ He just turned into a monster and destroyed the house, no biggie. ‘What do you hope to accomplish?’ Nothing- wait no, that’s not an answer Dr. Anderson would like so… To get… better?

Steven’s pretty sure Dr. Anderson knows the answers to these questions already. It’s not like his dad just sat with her and talked about completely irrelevant topics that had no relation to why they’re here.

(Why’s he so… angry? That isn’t like him.)

(Is it?)

“Now, Mr. Universe, if it’s fine with you, I would like to speak with Steven alone please.”

Greg stands up and waves his hands in front of him, like a tiny surrender gesture. “Of course, of course.” He turns to Steven. “You’re good, right Steven?”

“Yeah, dad.”

“Love you, schtuball.” His dad says, ruffling Steven’s hair and then walking out into the waiting room. 

There’s an obvious tension in the air now, and Steven’s sure Dr. Anderson notices, even though she doesn’t say anything.

“So Steven, tell me.” She sits in her chair, but leans in a bit. “Did you want to come here today?”

“Yes.” He responds quickly, and is greeted with a stare (it’s probably supposed to be a non-judgmental stare, but he feels really judged right now). “I mean, sort of? I was kinda convinced.”

Dr. Anderson writes something down on her clipboard, taking a lot longer than Steven would think needed for a simple question. God, why’s he so irritated? Stop. He needs to stop. He needs to stop before he gets out of control again, and spirals, and-

No. No, no, no. Stop thinking like that.

Steven is asked a few more questions, now, more personal than with his dad. Dr. Anderson asks him to elaborate on why he came here, which he does. He talks about Connie and his dad (excluding the kiss, if only to save his cheeks from reddening), and how he felt weird just lying around doing nothing.

This isn’t an actual session, clearly, so the questions are more surface level. ‘How is your relationship with your dad?’ Good. ‘How is your relationship with other members of your household?’ Also good. 

He glances at a small digital clock on the desk next to Dr. Anderson. It’s been like an hour already. He just wants to leave. She apparently senses that, or is able to see Steven’s not-so-disguised impatient movements. Like when he obviously turns his head towards the clock, or fidgets with his hands, or glances towards the door.

“Okay, Steven, I just have a few more questions- just common practice. Have you ever harmed or had thoughts of harming yourself? Along with this, have you ever attempted or had thoughts of suicide?”

Harming himself? Suicide? Steven thinks about that for a moment. Not really, right? He’s never intentionally harmed himself. Maybe just put himself in harm’s way is all. And that’s not really his fault, since it’s always for the benefit of everyone else, even if it means he must make sacrifices.

As for suicide… Well, no. He’s never tried to kill himself. (Other people have tried to kill him, but that’s besides the point.) So that should be a clear ‘no.’ to that question. He opens his mouth to respond. “I…”

But… has he thought of dying? Sure, he’s thought about dying before, since who hasn't? But has he thought about dying by his own hands? About killing himself? 

That one time, he did think about-

“No.” Steven says out loud. “No. No, to both questions.”

He feels himself losing control. It’s so sudden- an overpowering rush of emotions that instantly floods his mind. Stop spiralling, damn it! Stop thinking about how awful he is! This is not. The. Time.

Steven’s hands quickly swell and glow pink. “I, uh…” He looks towards Dr. Anderson with large eyes, “I gotta go. Really sorry.”

Dr. Anderson is mostly unfazed by his changing body, but there is a small hint of fear and confusion on her face that Steven can just make out. “Wait, Steven. Just sit back down, so we can try and calm down.”

He’s standing? Since when did he get up? Steven looks down at his sandaled feet, noting their pink hue. 

He’s done it again. He’s done it again. Agh, he just wants to scream! He needs to release this… feeling. He can’t quite identify what it is, but it hurts. It hurts his chest and his head and his body, and it’s so, so similar to how he felt after his meltdown, but he’s been good! He’s been good about that these past few weeks! So why is he losing control now? When there’s a human in the room with him that he could easily hurt (and kill).

“No, no, I- I- have to go. Please.” He clutches his head as his body grows once more.

He leaves before Dr. Anderson can even get a word in, almost tearing the office door off its hinges. He passes his dad, who’s just sitting down in the waiting room, but looks up at the commotion. 

“Steven-!”

Steven ignores his dad, fleeing like the coward he is. Here he is, running away from again. Running from his problems again. 

He runs down the steps of the building, his speed enhanced. He could probably get all the way back home before his dad got to the car. But he doesn’t want to go home. Home is the last place he wants to be. Home is the last place he  _ deserves _ to be.

This can’t be happening.

He keeps running.


	6. Letting It Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's a bit of a shorter chapter, since i wanted to end it in a good place
> 
> thanks to everyone's support! kudos and comments are always greatly appreciated! (i just love hearing everyone's thoughts haha)

He finds himself needing a distraction. There’s something constantly on his mind. And when he thinks, he spirals. And when he spirals, he thinks. He thinks about how awful he is. How utterly terrible he is. How he’s a  _ fraud, _ nothing but a  _ fraud _ , a liar. He’s supposed to be this- this  _ saint.  _ But he’s not.

All he is is a mon-

No no no no no no no no.

He needs a distraction.

He can’t go and ask the gems, it’s just… not right. They have other things to worry about. Plus, he’s been doing “okay” these past few weeks. He can’t worry them. More.

So that’s out of the question. 

What’s he supposed to do!? He’s trapped. Trapped between a rock and a hard place- Dr. Anderson’s office, and his own house. He can’t go back to either. 

He just needs to get rid of this… form he’s taken on. He hates being like this. It reminds him of all the terrible things he’s done, like-

No! Stop! Spiralling!

God, he feels himself splitting apart.

He’s in some sort of woodsy area, though he’s barely able to register it. Everything blurs around him, and he eventually stops running and places his palms onto the bark of a tree. Steven digs his nails into the wood, gripping it tightly to steady himself. Little droplets of blood form under his nails, skin broken from the coarse grain, but he doesn’t notice.

Memories flash in his mind- repeated incidents of what he can now identify as trauma. Pink Diamond, Bismuth, almost dying, lars dying, watching himself die, Rose, cats, Pink Diamond, lasers, almost dying, the earth almost being destroyed, Diamonds, the zoo, the earth almost being destroyed again, and again, Spinel, almost dying, Pink, White, getting his gem pulled out-

It’s never ending. It’s a constant stream of nightmares that really happened. And Steven just feels like he’s going to break.

Come on! Control, control, control. Breathe. It’s fine. No, it’s not fine, but it can be. Just calm down. It’s fine.

Eventually, Steven’s erratic, shallow breaths even out into heavy gasps. He reclaims his hold on reality. Barely. He’s on the ground, the leaves and dirt sticking to his skin. They’re wet, and he realizes it’s raining. When did that start?

He doesn’t know how long it’s been. Probably not hours, but he wouldn’t be surprised if it were. The cold drops of water are a welcome reprieve from his burning skin. He pushes his back against the tree, feeling everything and nothing at the same time. 

Steven digs his already bloodied nails into his head. Stop, stop stop! He just wants everything to stop! It’s too much! He doesn’t want to feel like this anymore. 

He wants everything to stop.

Stop.

Permanently.

Steven huddles in on himself and cries until the pink fades away.

-

The gems find him eventually. Steven doesn’t know how, but he also doesn’t care. Pearl looks like she wants to lecture him, but restrains herself. Amethyst just looks sad. And Garnet maintains a poker face with a hint of disappointment. 

They take him back to the house. Nobody says anything as they lead Steven out of the woods, and out onto some random residential street near the therapist’s office. His dad is waiting there with his Dondai (and his own van, which the gems must’ve taken to get here, since there’s likely no warp pads around), and runs up to the group when he catches sight of his son.

“Steven!” His dad says, arms open like he’s going in for a hug. He decides against it when he sees the younger boy's condition. “What happened, schtuball?” He asks softly.

Steven turns his head to the side and looks down at the pavement. This keeps happening. He keeps losing control, and keeps running away from his problems. It’s embarrassing, at the very least. And at the worst, extremely destructive and harmful. 

“I’m sorry.” And… well. That’s all he can say, isn’t it? It certainly doesn’t make up for what he’s done time and time again, but it’s all he can do. 

They go home.

-

Steven sits on the couch when they get back, and with the gems surrounding him, it’s very reminiscent of the time he crashed the van. His dad is inside too, though, sitting next to Steven. 

“Kiddo, we gotta talk.” 

“I…” What can he say? He’s messed up. Yet again. And everyone’s disappointed.

A pink portal opens suddenly to the left of Steven. Lion bursts out of it, Connie on his back. “Steven, I wanted to check how your appointment-” She cuts herself off when she she’s how quiet the room is. “What’s wrong?”

God, he must be a pathetic sight. His head hurts from digging his nails into his skull. There’s small streaks of blood smearing his face and hands, and tear tracks running down his face. What a mess.

“I’m sorry.” Steven says again, bowing his head and refusing to make eye contact with anyone. He feels dizzy. 

His dad mutters something to Connie that he can’t make out, and doesn’t try to. Therapy was a mistake, he decides. Then corrects himself. No, therapy wasn’t the mistake. He’s the mistake. Steven Universe is the mistake.

“Steven…” Amethyst starts, “I think we need to talk, man.” 

Pearl nods her head, “I couldn’t agree more. Steven, please, you have to tell us how you’re feeling. You know we care, right?” Her voice grows slightly desperate near the end.

“I...I know. I guess.” He replies.

Garnet walks over to him, and places a hand on his shoulder. “Steven, we’re your family. We all love you, and nothing could change that.” 

“Garnet’s right, kiddo. We all love you.” His dad says.

Steven looks up, and everyone’s staring at him. Not intensely, but just concerned. It makes him feel terrible for hurting all five of them.

“I know… I just. Sometimes… Sometimes it’s hard to remember that. Or, like, remember how important it is.”

He’s a hypocrite, he realizes. A total hypocrite. All this time, all his life he’s been trying to get people to talk about their feelings. And, well, it’s worked. It’s worked because he knows how to help people. He just doesn’t know how to help himself. Which isn’t even true. Because he  _ does _ know how- the answer’s been in front of him the entire time. He just doesn’t want to be helped. (He doesn’t deserve to be helped.)

But nothing’s going to change if he keeps hiding like this. Nothing will change, and that’s the scariest part. Because change is natural, change is what makes up  _ Steven _ . People live to change. 

Steven realizes another thing. He wants change. Good change. But change isn’t something controllable most of the time, especially when it’s someone else's decision. 

The thing is, though, it’s  _ his  _ decision to change. It’s Steven’s decision to decide whether he wants to get better. Because no one can help him if he’s not willing to help himself. He doesn’t want to be stuck feeling awful all the time. It’s… well, awful. He feels like he’s always on the verge of falling apart. Always on the verge of dying. He doesn’t want to be afraid anymore. He doesn’t want to  _ hurt _ anymore. And his family wants to help him.

So, he guesses, it’s time to make a change. 

He takes a deep breath.

“I… want to tell you how I’ve been feeling. I think…” Steven sighs, releasing pent up pressure in his chest. Not all the pain dissipates, but it does help. “I think I need to get some stuff out in the open.” 

It’s not something he wants to do, but it’s something he needs to do. Something he really, really, really needs to do.

So he tells everyone- Greg, Connie, Garnet, Amethyst and Pearl- all five of them, what he’s been thinking about. How he still feels guilty. How he still feels useless. How he ran out of therapy because… because he was scared of himself. 

And for once they all just listen. No one interrupts, even during the many times he’s self-deprecating. They just listen. And it’s nice to be listened to.

It feels… good… to finally let it out. In a non-harmful way. It’s good to talk. 

Steven finishes after a little bit. He hasn’t talked about everything, obviously, really only covering recent events and feelings behind them, but it makes him feel a lot better. And it seems everyone can sense this, because even though Steven admitted the horrible stuff he’s been thinking about, he admitted it. And that’s better than bottling it up. Because bottling something up for too long leads to an explosion. Quite literally, Steven knows from experience. 

Everyone smiles at him, even though they all have unshed tears glimmering in their eyes (Not that he can see Garnet’s eyes, but he knows). Connie is the first to speak after he finishes. “Thanks for telling us, Steven.” Everyone nods and hums in agreement. 

Connie sits next to him on the couch, and strangely, the gems do as well. They don’t all fit, and must look ridiculous, but it doesn't matter. Group hugs are becoming their “thing.”

Steven starts crying, and everyone quickly asks him what’s wrong. 

“Nothing.” He says, tears rolling down his checks as he tries in vain to ebb their flow, “I’m just happy, you know? I’m really happy to have you guys.”

Apparently that was the right (or wrong) thing to say, because everyone else starts crying, too. Steven laughs. “I think I might have to apologize to Dr. Anderson.” He says through his tears.

“Maybe, Schtuball.” His dad also chuckles, but then realizes something. “Does that mean you want to go back?”

Steven looks up at his dad, noting his hopeful expression and pleading eyes. It’s not necessary though, since Steven has already made up his mind. “I think it would be good for me. I think I just realized  _ how _ good it would be for me. Talking things out.”

Connie holds his hands, and his dad wraps an arm around his shoulder. Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl all lean in so that everyone’s touching, still in a kind of giant hug. 

He may not be perfect- he may not ever be the same again. It’s going to take a lot of time and effort to even feel truly happy again. But... It’s a start. And that’s all he needs right now. A start to change.

Steven Universe is not a monster. And his family will make sure he doesn’t forget that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't worry, there's more angst to come :)

**Author's Note:**

> if you like art... maybe check out some stuff i do? there’s lots of steven universe art on my insta and tumblr - @undertalefa (no pressure!)
> 
> thanks! <3


End file.
